FateFalse Sacrifice
by 0SilverHawk0
Summary: A new Holy Grail War starts, as a response to a mysterious incident that destroyed the magical leylines of the Far East.  A new generation of daring magi battle it out for the right to the new Holy Grail!
1. Prologue

_This is an original fiction, set in the Fate/Stay Night universe. Attempts have been made to explain mechanics where needed, but novices will likely be in over their head, if unfamiliar. Most parts were written by me. Saber and Lacie's parts were written by a friend in real-life, who goes by the handle RagDollPuppy. As usual with something like, this, all hail Nasu and Type-Moon, and this universe belongs to them, along with characters, names, concepts, etc., they came up with. Most characters are original. If you can look up their name and find them on Type Moon wiki, then they're not ours. Finally, please don't steal this. We'd be quite cross. If you wish to post this somewhere else, just fire me a message! I don't bite. :)_

_** Fate/False Sacrifice **_

Prologue:

_ After an incident in the East, which destroyed a major leyline of magical energy, the Magus Association takes upon increasingly radical means to establish a new age of magic. As mana seems to drain from the very ground, due to this magical disturbance, events bring themselves to a new Holy Grail War. With research gleaned from the deceased head of the Einzbern family, Ilya, new rules are set into motion._

_**Tuesday, September 13, 2016**_

/-\Trenton/-\

"Son," The forbidding figure above him, with its white mane and hobbling stature, urged him to go on. "Why are you waiting?" Trenton could only smile at his father, through his own mane of reddish hair, he had done it. "This is a summoning of a Heroic Spirit. It is a person from history who is far beyond the ken of mortals. It's only right that there should be a sense of drama don't you think?" His goofy smile was at odds with the serious nature of this event, almost like he considered it a kid's game.

This man, sitting down in the large toolshed, seemed tiny compared to his father, who was looking down at his work. The father, Gerold, had been a muscular man in his youth, but now his body was soft, as could be attributed mostly to a bad knee, and in part to a softening of his daily routine. After all, what is the point in exercise if your body won't do what it wanted anyways? In contrast, the son, Trenton Blackwater, was skinny and lanky, despite being twenty-two. In that way, he took after his mother, though that thought had never crossed Gerold's lips.

"No more fooling around, incant the summoning." Gerold was a rather distant figure to Trenton. Apart from magery, in which Trenton practiced every night, he had no connection with his father. The man saw him exclusively as an heir, and had trusted in his mother, up until her death a few years ago, to raise him as a person. He didn't have much of an idea whether his father approved, but he was a good magus, if only at one aspect.

And that was why, when his father gave a command, he cut his dramatic meandering, and began saying the words. By now, his memorization of these principles was complete, and he didn't even need to think about the incantation. This was, after all, what he had been training for. The catalyst was sure to summon a servant of the class Caster, and that was exactly the class he needed. Past that, he didn't need anymore.

His sense of drama was not disappointed, when light and wind blew forth from the summoning circle in great quantities. It was a spectacle he could hardly believe, and he braced himself, squinting his eyes to try to see what figure would bring itself out of this summoning. He couldn't see it, but his father had braced himself against the wall, and had a grim look on his face.

Finally, it was done. A robed figure, black upon black, with a small sliver of white under the hood, spoke. "So, this is what the Earth has become. Which of you is my master?" Her eyes, barely unhidden, bored into Trenton, making it clear this was a rhetorical question.

Her voice was sultry, the type given to whispers, and it had an all-knowing quality to it. This summoning was not a surprise to her. That said, even if this summoning was a surprise, she would not show surprise. She was a noblewoman, and would not deign to show something she didn't approve of.

Trenton stepped forward. "That is I, m'lady." Gerold sneered at Trenton's bow, but he thought it was only right to be polite to a lady, even if she was a servant from an age of heroes. Especially if she was such a woman, with strength that the weak women of modern times would blanch at. Little did he know how right he was.

With that, she brought back her hood with her hand, revealing her raven-black hair, and beautiful face. "I am summoned here, as Caster." She brought herself into a curtsy. "I am pleased to meet you, my master." Gerold didn't change the look on his face, but he knew just from looking at her. This servant had what was needed to win. "Then, let's get started."

**Wednesday, September 14, 2016**

IIILacieIII

"...Body of Saint Peter, check. Head of Saint Basil, check. Statue of Our Lady of Westminister, check..." she sighs and loses her enthusiasm "Of course there's really no point in even thinking of that considering where I am." In front of the girl there is a skeleton holding a skull, lying in the middle of a mystic looking circle. The girl continues speaking to herself as if to assess her situation "Really, I was lucky to be able take these from where they were kept without being caught."

"However, the amount of attention they receive from being missing could cause a problem. On top of that there's no guarantee that this combination of relics will have the desired effect. How frustrating…" She silently decides to return them as soon as possible. Then with a bored expression on her face she holds her arm out, and recites an incantation that, were any inhabitants of the church to hear it, could only be described as heresy.

When the incantation is completed, a powerful gust of wind and light engulfs the room. As the wind clears, and the light dissipates, there stands a man of considerable stature with long wavy brown hair, dark eyes, and who is clad in impressive full-plate armor with a war skirt. His most outstanding feature is the blade which in appearance can only be summarized as 'Peerless'. He has pointed at his potential master.

With a face of utter disgust and hatred the unknown man says "Who are you, and art thou my Master?" The girl's looks are in stark contrast to his, with pale white skin, light brown straight hair, light green eyes, wearing a beret, blue-lined black corset, and long ruby-style blue pleated skirt stares at him in awe. He asks again "Who are you and art thou my Master?"

Being pressured as such, the young woman says in an aggravated voice "I am Lacie Blanc and I am your Master!" The knight pauses and, with a fierce fire in his eyes, states "And why is it that you have desecrated these holy artifacts?" He points to the skeleton, and Lacie begins, "It was the only way I could think of to summon you effectively. I tried retrieving your sword from Rocamadour but that proved to be nothing more than a cheap fake. I concluded that combining the qualities of the 3 Saints and the Holy Mother that the blade shared with would allow me to summon you. If you are worried about those pieces of trash on the floor I have already set up for them to be returned!

"As she casts a spell on the items and they seem to disappear it occurs to the girl that she may not be looking at who she intended to summon. Irritated by this thought, she yells, "Tell me who you are and your class Servant!" to which the angry knight replies "I am a paladin who served under the King of Franks and the Emperor of the Romans and I am of the Saber class. Is that enough of an answer for you, Milady!" Lacie makes a crooked grin and says "Yes."

**Tuesday, September 13, 2016**

/-\Trenton/-\

It was more like an interrogation, than a review of her abilities, the Countess mused. Shortly after her summoning, she had been taken inside the old English mansion, and she was satisfied with the accommodations, at least. Some morning tea, good food, and a luxurious dining room, these were all she needed to be satisfied for now. She guessed the family color was red, given the abundance of it, coloring most of the walls in some form or another. Some vague recalling from her status as servant told her that it was the color of China, though she wondered if that was relevant.

Red certainly was a color for these impulsive types who wanted to know her abilities so soon, when the Holy Grail War was so close at hand. "So, countess…" The younger one, Trenton, began. He was the one she liked more by far, though the eagerness of youth was strong in him. "…you are a blood mage then? You sound like some kind of vampire." He had a wide smile on his face, like that was absolutely the coolest thing ever. She instantly wondered what it would take to break that happy facade.

She nodded, taking the last sip of her tea. When her master had inquired about her abilities, she quickly summarized these, and, to her satisfaction, he was smart enough to keep up. In addition, she felt wonderful magical energy from him. She wondered how deep his reserve was, but he was definitely a talented magus.

"I am a magus whose Origin is Blood. Have you heard of Origins?" They both nodded. "As the Origin of your existence, your soul, it is a rather elementary concept, despite how hard it is to figure out. Regardless, this Origin is the source of my power as Caster. If there is blood involved, I can bypass many rules of magecraft, bringing about near-miracles. It would take a long time to summarize all I can do, but with that as the concept, I can do near anything."

"Now, Master...Gerold…" She said it like that so that they knew which one she would follow, it was essential that any problems in their relationships be sorted out early. She did not like to think of the last time she had failed to do so. "…I have some questions of my own. What are your own abilities as magi? And, further, explain the circumstances of this war to me."

"Wh-she doesn't know about the Holy Grail War?" The one who made this surprised reaction was Gerold. Trenton had heard that he had been one of the people who had made this Holy Grail War come about, but he guessed that they weren't entirely sure about all the results. Figured. He never told his son anything.

"No." She shook here head simply. "Now, will you answer me?" Her stare was firm and resolute. She was a noblewoman, and that meant she knew how to get answers. Not to mention her other, less reputable pastimes.

"Then, to answer your first question. We are the Blackwaters. We aren't especially famous magi, except among certain experts." He didn't betray a hint of disappointment that his family wasn't famous, if there was even a hint of such emotion. "To put it simply, we took only one generation to rise to the title of great magus, even if they don't like to acknowledge that. You see, the ancient old man right here," A seething glare came from across the table. "became a student of the last remaining practicioner of an ancient Chinese martial art. One so wreathed in secrecy, the Magus Association did not even realize it was magic."

"As for the Holy Grail War, we've got to kill all the other Masters in London and then we'll get a wish. Amazing, isn't it?" His simple explanation was all that could be expected really, she mused with a sigh. She'd just have to get it out of him over the time until the war started.

**Wednesday, September 14, 2016**

IIILacieIII

After the summoning Saber and his Master are sitting in a hotel room. It's a fairly simple looking room, not very high class but comfortable and spacious. Lacie has several maps and rune plates strune across the floor and appears to be planning something. However Saber shows little interest with that at the moment. Instead he is bewildered by something "Why is it that you use your magic so freely and practically broadcast yourself as a magi of runes? Surely you can't be so incompetent to think that doing so matters not."

He is referring to her cloths that are covered in various runes and to the fact that she hypnotized the clerk to allow her to use this room for an undisclosed amount of time without payment. She replies to his question with a blank stare and says "Huh! Why should I hide the fact that I am a magi? Normal people won't be-able to understand the runes I bear nor does it matter they would usually refuse to believe magic if they saw it and nobody normal would believe them if they decided to speak of it. As for magi I feel no desire to hide myself from worthy rivals."

Saber sighs and continues "Even so my lady don't you agree that you should use your magic sparingly? After all using your magic so much will have an effect on my own ability to fight." His Master glares at him "One: aren't you confident in your own combat abilities that you won't have to resort to such costly measures? Two: Just what in the bloody hell do you think I'm planning with all these materials in front of me?" The knight smirks "Haha! You speak well of course I have no doubt in my prowess but..."

He pauses "As an honorable knight I will not accept this plan you seem to be hatching. It surely involves the sacrifices of others or else you wouldn't be using a boundary field." The man gives her an intense look. The pale girl girl smiles "Good. I agree a plan that requires unnecessary sacrifices is no good." Saber is perplexed by her reaction.

"Allow me to elaborate. We are in the magi capitol of the world, London, well within a 2 mile radius of Clock Tower. Due to that fact many amateur magi will be experimenting within this field. I intend to harness the excess power these magi expel when they cast their magic" Saber is surprised by the simple logic of this plan. "I see, that would be acceptable. It's so simple it's brilliant. With this we will have an irreplaceable advantage over our adversaries."

She replies rather arrogantly "Hmpf. There's that but honestly I could smash any magi into dust if need be. Our success is already assured even without this field." Saber laughs and with that he has gained confidence in his new Master and realizes why it was her who summoned him.

|||Albert Leed|||

The man was blonde, almost stereotypically so, with his tall figure, blue eyes, and good looks. It was only right, he thought in his mind, that the son of an established family of magi be the best in every regard. That, however, left quite a burden. He was bored, in essence, and for that, his morality suffered, leading him to idling his time tormenting his peers and colleagues.

Now, however, he had found a creative outlet. He had always felt that he was above mortal affairs, that he should be part of some greater fight, like the heroes of old, but was constrained by modern society, and its mediocrity. Naturally, when he found out about the Holy Grail War, he jumped on the opportunity.

And now, with the sword of Charlemagne, Joyeuse, in front of him, he had a chance at something greater. The circle he had constructed in the yard of his mansion was made of gold. An almost ludicrous price, but for what it would summon, it was worth it.

"_King of History, I call thee to this place._

_Thou shalt be the Rider, but I shall hold thy reigns_

_Come, my Servant, and fight for me in, the Holy Grail War!"_

The words differed from the last war, but judging by what he had been told, it didn't matter. If that old man wished for him to fight in this war, he would. The light shined, and the wind blew ever greater, obscuring the hedges and cobblestones of the garden. Just when it seemed to be too much to bear, it ended.

It took several seconds for his eyes to readjust. He had covered them as the ritual took place, but still, he could barely see. _Did I summon the correct servant?_ "Are you him? Are you the Rider, Charlemagne?" Now that he could see, he knew the man was practically monstrous in size, bigger than the records even said he was. He was probably seven and a half feet tall.

"Yes. And are you…my master?" For the first time in his life, Albert felt awed. "Yes, yes, I am, King of God." He said, resisting the urge to bow. This was only the beginning, yet it felt just as good as he thought it should.


	2. Chapter 1

_This is an original fiction, set in the Fate/Stay Night universe. Attempts have been made to explain mechanics where needed, but novices will likely be in over their head, if unfamiliar. Most parts were written by me. Saber and Lacie's parts were written by a friend in real-life, who goes by the handle RagDollPuppy. As usual with something like, this, all hail Nasu and Type-Moon, and this universe belongs to them, along with characters, names, concepts, etc., they came up with. Most characters are original. If you can look up their name and find them on Type Moon wiki, then they're not ours. Finally, please don't steal this. We'd be quite cross. If you wish to post this somewhere else, just fire me a message! I don't bite. :)_

_**Fate/False Sacrifice**  
><em>

Chapter 1:

-Thursday, September 22 2016-

IIILacieIII

"L-lacie are you sure you wish to do this! What if another Master is there?" The enraged girl is stomping toward the entrance to Clock Tower. "No!" she says, swinging the bat she holds at her Servant. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing!" She screams. "I do not care."

All the people within the area are unconcious. She's already knocked out the non-magi with magecraft. Saber reacts to this with, "Zut, quelle une garce." Immediately he regrets this action because his Master is glaring at him now. This is one of the few times he's been genuinely afraid of anything. Her gaze makes him feel like he's being dragged deep into the depths of hell. Then she says, "J'ai compris cela." An audible gulp can be heard from the man's throat.

The two of the them are standing in front of Clock Tower. Now the white-skinned girl throws a baseball into the air. It has a rune on it. Same as the bat. Which she raises into a batter stance, "HERE I COME!" ...and then...When the ball is hit a thunderous sound is heard. It's not the same as when a bat normally makes contact with a ball. It's much louder. In fact, it's earth shattering. This incredible assault tears right through the entrance of Clock Tower causing dust and rubble to go everywhere. The people inside are in a panic. Until a woman comes forth into the wreckage and commands them "Calm down 's just an immature magus." That person is Barthomeloi Lorelei.

Lacie seems annoyed by this "Tch." But she smiles and says, "Oh,really? I'm nothing but an immature magus?" Raising her right hand and stating "Then why is it that I have this." Referring to the three command seals on it.

"Impudent child!" a proud magus says as she throws an offensive spell at her. At that time the Servant Saber materializes and effortlessly smacks the attack away. The magi in the room are even more taken aback by this turn of events. A Servant isn't an existance many of them have seen. No one sane will attack her now. Not without a plan, anyways.

"Good. It seems you all understand the situation." Saber whispers "Lady, I thought you said you didn't wish to harm anyone." The young Master blinks and looks around "Eh...What are you talking about?" He then realizes that nobody is under the rubble. Naturally the knight is relieved. Saber's Master starts taking something out of her pocket, and she catches a glimpse of a toned aged man limping on a knee. It had clearly been an old wound, and smiles. She tosses an envelope and a rune ring at the Queen, also known as Barthomeloi Lorelei. And continues "If you want to save as many of your students as possible I suggest you set that up for me." With that the Servant/Master pair take their leave...

"As I recall, Lacie Blanc, correct? You are the third, then." The old man closes his eyes once, and opens his mouth as if to speak again, but a blonde man reveals himself from behind one set of rubble.

"Hey..." His look is intense, of one who has had something precious smeared. "...you know I work here, right?" He slowly draws his sleeve down, and shows a command spell. "RIDER!" With that word, the servant shows himself, with gold-trimmed armor, and a grand cross across his breastplate. His figure is huge, and his long, brown hair, neatly trimmed. However, a frown is on his face.

A silence stretches for a few seconds, before Rider turns to regard his master. "What trickery is this, Albert? Why are you requesting I fight my own loyal retainer?" The young pale Master laughs, "Haha! You hear that? Go Saber, smash them!" The paladin is silent then he plainly replies "No." Lacie is stunned

"Que?" The man known as Saber smiles warily and says "As he says I am one of his loyal retainers...That being said you are also my Master. Neither of you will suffer defeat purely from my own hands." Albert was absolutely furious. "So, who is it then, Roland, the greatest Paladin? Whatever." He holds up his hand. "You won't have any reservations after I use this!" Rider looks at him in shock. "You wouldn't dare, you mongr..."

"As your master, Rider, no, Charlemagne, I command you..." His voice is stopped by a relatively small one, only recognized because it is someone considerably his senior, both in status and age. But that is nothing compared to the fact that he was the 'manager' of the Holy Grail War, or as close to one as there could be. "ALBERT LEED. This Holy Grail War has not started yet. Go back to your home, be content that you now know another servants identity, and do not profane these walls anymore, the same to you, Lacie!"

Roland's Master is the first to speak, "Whatever, that's fine I was just about to leave, anyway. My business here is done." Albert sneers, then turns and leans against a boulder, conveniently placed where his desk had been.

All his research material had been there, damn her! "Go home if you want, I'll just hunt you down later! Rider, lift this boulder!" The servant just sighs and does as his master requested. It was rather annoying to both of them, but at least things were equal that way.

As Lacie turns to leave she turns back to the old man. "Don't think I'm not on to you and your little pets plans, Lord Gerold!" Then she really takes her leave. The old man only smiles.

"…so, you're french Master?"

|||Albert Leed|||

"Damn, damn, damn." All his notes had been in that place, but Lacie had destroyed them so utterly. And by accident! The sheer unlikeliness of it made him angry, it didn't even enter his conscious that it was another of the 'Stars' of the Clock Tower. The situation was rather strange, like something out of a novel, or a comic book. Four stars of the Clocktower, adolescents who, over the past few years, had grown into adults, and solidified themselves as excellent magi despite any number of complications.

There was himself, Trenton, Lacie, and the newest among them, Lily. They were all those who showed talent despite some crippling setback. In fact, it was testament to the changes the Magus Association had gone through, that this situation was even possible. Albert bit his lip. He guessed he had taken it for granted that things would remain the same, simply because he had grown bored of such a thing. He should have guessed they'd be involved straight from the beginning, but he had regarded everyone around him with too much apathy to realize it.

Well, there was nothing to do about it now, except to push on. Even if his introduction to this strange war had him thinking strange thoughts, this was a dog-eat-dog war. It wasn't worthy of him to attack prematurely or anything cowardly like that, even if he knew two others who were likely masters. Lacie, the one who had so angered him before, was an old rival of his, someone with whom he had always butted heads. The woman was brash and fiery, and for her to be just as good as him, even better, despite using such a shunned method of magic, it was unthinkable. A simple drawing of a rune on a baseball and a bat, and she had accomplished something so drastic without even that much usage of prana. Her ability was one that allowed her plenty of power if prepared. She was probably one of the worst ones to summon Saber, that is, for Albert himself. Fortunately, it seemed Albert had summoned the man's uncle. That area shouldn't be too hard to deal with, he'd just have to use a command seal, or persuade Charlemagne, if possible.

The next one was Trenton. Out of the four, Trenton was the most eccentric one. He was half-Chinese, his father having spent a significant amount of time in that country. Albert wasn't sure of the details, but that was where their magic had started, and in one generation had gathered enough power to gain respect. Well, it was to be expected, when their power made it so that they were as powerful as a magus with many generations of magical backing.

And, as if to cap off that the Magus Association had been wrong all these years, there was also Lily, who hadn't even had any training. It seemed wrong for there to be something like the Mystic Eyes of Comprehension, but they were there, nonetheless. Lily was someone for whom learning a spell was as simple as seeing it, even once.

His competition was fierce, to be sure. But, he had the best servant. That was what he was sure of. Now, the man had materialized in front of him, and Albert cocked his head, wondering what this King of God had done that for. "Rid-" He was interrupted by a wave of the man's hand.

"Albert, now that we're away from imminent danger and being overheard…" Apparently Charlemagne was a confident man. He must have already checked the surroundings. And, he was overconfident, Albert might say, because he hadn't used the term Master. But, facing this tall figure, Albert couldn't protest.

"…that *was* my nephew, Roland. I'm sure you know what that means. Do you still wish for me to fight my greatest paladin, who was stolen from me by treachery?" Albert nodded. "This is a war, Rider. You two are on different sides now. Surely you, who have fought in so many wars in life, to know that?"

He shook his head very simply. While seeing it, Albert figured it for a gesture the king might make, but his next words made him think it was something more personal. "No, no matter how many wars I fought in, it was for the good of all of Europe. I did not fight for a world where I would betray loyalty." Of course, Charlemagne had brought reform, as well as war. He was the leader of a cultural revolution, even as he united western Europe. Albert found himself doubting that he could convince this man.

After all, now that he was in this man's presence, didn't it seem that his desire to be in a time of legend, a selfish one, would make him a villain?

It was not an existence used to this sort of skulking, the Assassin thought. He was not even an Assassin. As he lightly hopped from building to building, he could easily sense the presence beside him. It was so easy to follow them, but he knew the power coming out of that servant, Saber, was immense.

*But, I am invincible under the sun, am I not?* Even if he wasn't, he had to make sure, and his masters command to find the worth of every servant, meant he had to go down there now. He released his presence concealment. On cue, the pair stopped, noticing his presence. He softly landed on the ground, and stood up. He was a rough-looking man, someone who looked like he had just been in the jungle, no matter how clean he looked in his traditional Japanese garments now.

"Esteemed swordsman, may I request a duel?" His katana didn't have the customary shine it would have in his homecountry, but the lethal sharpness of it would show through even on this grey day, as it pointed directly at Saber. His killing intent was practically concrete at this point, and this swordsman, if he truly was one, would notice that.

-Thursday, September 22, 2016-

IIILacieIII

The paladin, who has a grin on his face begins "Ah! I— " but is interrupted by his Master "No!" causing Servant Saber to get disgruntled "Why milady! He's challenged us so openly. Not only that but we stopped walking just to lure him out here."...The pale Master pauses "That was only because I wasn't expecting it to be a Servant." She turns to the asian man in front of them. "Anyways, Assassin I am afraid I must inform you that the Grail War has not officially begun so we cannot accept your challenge."

The man gives a roguish grin, after a long pause. "I see, then this is not a normal duel, but a simple attack, defend yourself!" The man rushes forward, closing the gap easily. He had been that close to deciding to honor this young woman's wish, but his master had worded it exactly the right way to get him to come here of his own volition. To test himself against this foreign man's sword, it was something he craved.

Even Saber is a little surprised by his speed, but manages to deflect his attack as well as any equal would in battle. "Very well!" Lacie chants "Uruz, Algiz, Eihaz, Raidho." Activating various runes embroidered on her outfit. Then, reaches into her coat lined with paperpads, with runes written on them, to begin her own counter. Servant Saber however reacts "Don't interfere!" So instead she reaches for the rune of healing, Laguz, on her belt.

Now Saber begins his offensive, by rapidly meeting the mans blade, locking it and pushing them back to a safe distance. His strength is just right to push back Assassin. But, as quickly as he seems to retreat, he is striking again, at Saber's legs. The scary part about this Assassin isn't that he strikes from the shadows to surprise you; it's that he can catch you off-guard even when you have already spotted him. In that sense, he is just like any other Assassin, relying on his wits, rather than brute strength.

Saber is just as impressive however. While the man he is facing is indeed fast and skilled, Saber can still meet his blows and find time to attack. It occurs to him though that as long as the enemy has the element of surprise he is at a disadvantage. Realizing this, the paladin barrels into the assassin with his blade, having almost no regard for his own safety. In an attempt to catch the opponent off guard as well.

Assassin is surprised, if even that little bit. He had faced men before who gave their all for that one attack, and it was a simple matter of dodging once to strike, but this bullheaded rush was something that only a knight of the west would do, and only a knight of the west could pull off. As it was, it takes all of Assassins speed to throw himself to the side, rolling and bringing himself up with his back to the wall.

"I see, fights to the death are different where you're from." It was only one action, but it had spoken. That's what kind of man this Saber is, someone who meets his problems head-on, willing to give his own life. "Saber, I apologize for these circumstances, but now that I have your measure, my master calls me back." These words are calculated. He wants Saber to see this as a confrontation between equals, something honorable. Before, he had won by underhanded tactics, but this Assassin was someone whose philosophy made him do what he needed to win, and here, that was to be honorable. That noble phantasm he carries likely holds power beyond what Assassin has. "Goodbye." And with that, he rushes off, at a dead-run, faster than Saber in his armor can achieve.

Thus, caught off guard again the knight yells "Hey! Wai-!" but again is interrupted "No! Saber, the fight is over." His Master says to him from a distance. It's clear now that he and his Master are just as hot-blooded as each other. "Let's go." she says as she places the rune back on her belt and instead puts on her glasses she had hanging there.

\/Lily\/

"Well, you didn't put up a very good showing, Assassin." Lily was disappointed, she really was. For a man who had seemed so reliable only a scant five minutes before, he had barely done a thing. She had watched through his eyes with a simple spell, surprised at how easily he had let her, but the fool had struck only twice, just to run when the enemy even tried to strike! Her petulant expression said she had expected better.

"What do you mean...Master?" His tone was bored! "I…what?" She was so incredulous she couldn't even come up with a response! "You asked me to find out how powerful he was, despite the magic book or whatever in your head that tells you anyways. You had said that you could only know strength by experiencing it." These words were, to him, the only motivation to do such a foolish thing.

"You know how good Saber is, after he attacks you…only once." The enigmatic servant nods. Such is his confidence that she completely believes him. "Did you keep him from learning your measure as well?" He smiles. "I do not fight with only one sword. I am far better than Saber thinks." He had not even told her all of his skills, or his true name. He was that kind of secretive servant.

And this reaction from her was what perplexed him the most. She was blushing, as much as an innocent maiden. He was a servant, dammit, not some dashing hero, come to sweep her off her feet. "Master, do you have any more orders for me?" She shook her head. "N-no, just...what I requested here, for the others. Find out how good they are."

That, at least was a command he couldn't begrudge. He still was pissed off about his Master's behavior, but he could at least lose himself in the fighting. That was what he was best at.

-Later the same day-

/-\Trenton/-\

"Ooh, damn." Trenton had already been fascinated with this war from the moment he heard about it, and even more when he had summoned Bathori, but this was on a whole different level for him. The Clocktower, that indomitable temple of magic, was blown open so easily. he wanted to know who did it, but it seemed all the masters were gone.

But there was a magus there, coordinating repair efforts. His old man, Gerold. "Oooooh, daddyyyyy!" He loved to try to embarrass his Father at work. The damned old man didn't give a response, eliciting a disappointed response from Trenton. "Son." He perked back up when Gerold finally noticed him, however.

His serious expression could only mean one thing. "Yes, father?" Gerold beckoned him away from the others, and he followed obediently. As much as he approached every aspect of his life with a fun-loving attitude, he knew when others were serious, and that he would have to act serious himself to uncover what was going on, no matter what he felt.

"I know the identity of two of the Masters, and the true names of their servants." Trenton widened his eyes in surprise. "Who?" A wide grin, becoming of Trenton, was on his face. Gerold still was straight-faced. "Lacie Blanc. Roland, in the class of Saber. Albert Reed. Charlemagne, in the class of Rider." Trenton maintained his grin, leaning closer while Gerold revealed their names. "And, father, have you learned who it is that is casting that boundary field?" Gerold frowned. "More than figured out. Lacie announced her intentions. That is why the Clocktower is in the state it is." Turning around, Trenton faced what seemed to be

All the exposition over with Trenton knew what he had to do. "Caster." At a word, she arrived, as elegant as always. "Yes, my dear Master?" She teased him, but he had a definite purpose in mind. His grin turned much more malevolent. "I'll be simple, interrupt that boundary field, and, when Saber comes to kill you..." The grin disappeared, an intense look on his face. "...let him. You know you can survive it." Caster herself had a turn at a mischevious grin. "Huhuhu, you have a clever mind, Master. Very well." With that she disappeared, sure to deliver his intentions to the hotheaded Master. "Now, all we have to do is wait for the last summoning." Gerold nodded. "Only one more."

Marius

Failure. That was all his mind seemed to comprehend anymore, his own failure. How long had his family maintained their supremacy over the other magus families? How long had they staved off that demon called Failure, again and again?

Now, he was the one who had let the rot come in. After one hundred fifty years, their Magic Crest had deteriorated to the point of nothing. It had already been a hard Magic Crest to master, and now, he couldn't even bother to think about what it was, and such was his fear.

There was only one path now. It was a death match, seven Masters, in a life-or-death battle. This was his last resort. Now, the raw blood he had spilled here, was his offering to the Holy Grail. The magus still squirmed in the background, some unknown who wasn't worthy of being in this world anymore. That he had even been able to fight back, made Marius sick. A novice magus that could stand up to the great Elston family! Unthinkable!

He didn't even care who he summoned anymore. All he wanted to do was to summon the damn servant. He had already put the prana into the circle, and now the summoning came. It did not actually matter anymore. Some distant corner of his mind said: 'This will only fail, and you will die, Marius, as it should be.'

A man stepped out of the darkness, the light subsiding as quickly as it appeared. He was obviously of Greek origin. His lance and shield, made it obvious he was competent. Here was a being that *had* succeeded. "So, is this scum my Master?" Already, he hated and loved this servant. "I am your master, and you will keep your t-" He was silenced immediately by a mere stare from the Servant. Now, though he wasn't even aware of it, the Holy Grail War had truly begun.

-?-

It came into being. It was not like a real birth, for it did not come into being through a womb, naturally eased into life. It simply went from oblivion, to chaos. There was only one impulse in its mind, it was sentient only for one purpose.

Hunger.

"W-what the hell is this thing?" A voice spoke, and it heard. It had no knowledge of what it spoke, it only searched with the senses it had, but could not identify. Next to it, was a source of sustenance. Something that could feed it, put an end to the hunger.

Small pinpricks, like an itching along the skin. It didn't even register the intent to kill in those attacks. They rose in intensity, feeling like the crunching of a tasty snack in its mouth. It ate. The crunching of bones, the screaming of that thing it didn't know was a soul. Everything of this immense being was destroyed utterly by one small mistake of fate, for having tried only seconds too late.

It had form now. All of the knowledge of this man, along with his form became its own. It blazed through the information in its mind, seeking only that thing which it now knew the name for.

Magic.

There was so much of it here in this city, that its new form smiled a crude caricature of an expression.


	3. Chapter 2

_This is an original fiction, set in the Fate/Stay Night universe. Attempts have been made to explain mechanics where needed, but novices will likely be in over their head, if unfamiliar. Most parts were written by me. Saber and Lacie's parts were written by a friend in real-life, who goes by the handle RagDollPuppy. As usual with something like, this, all hail Nasu and Type-Moon, and this universe belongs to them, along with characters, names, concepts, etc., they came up with. Most characters are original. If you can look up their name and find them on Type Moon wiki, then they're not ours. Finally, please don't steal this. We'd be quite cross. If you wish to post this somewhere else, just fire me a message! I don't bite. :)_

_**Fate/False Sacrifice**_

Chapter 2:

/-\Trenton/-\

It was a simple wish.

All that Mother had told him, at that precipice before death, was 'Have fun. There's so much in this life, so just have fun." It was such a simple wish, one that was heartfelt, one with only something that could be called a positive connotation. It was something that should have been incorruptible.

So, how had it become so rotten? How had Trenton corrupted his sacred Mother's wish? How had an adult, who should have been able to understand what she was meaning, turn it into this? The most chilling part, the part he enjoyed the most, was the answer.

It was so much more fun that way.

That was the answer Trenton had come to, and the answer that came back to him, now that he was in the midst of a Holy Grail War, deep in the sanctuary of his family's household. A good magus always squirreled themselves away when this sort of thing started. His father had told him, it *had* officially started, and now his thoughts had wandered back to that subject, which was exemplary of the core of his being.

The Holy Grail War was certainly an example of the reason for his tainted way of thinking. An all-out war, so that only one could gain their heartfelt wish, standing above the corpses of the other six. That was the sort of terrible thing that this world maintained. If he was to enjoy life, all aspects of life, he had to accept such a thing, and he took to enjoying such terrible things perhaps too well.

Tormenting students at the Magus Association was small fries compared to this. Even now, he had sent his loyal servant, to fake her death. A prank, and he had the perfect target. Father told him about Lacie, and he just knew she would have the best reaction. Apparently she was building a magical circle, to use the unutilized magical energy of the novice magi all over London. It was a master-stroke.

Trenton was truly lucky he had the only servant who could counter it. That Saber had an astounding magical resistance, as gifted by the Holy Grail, was not an issue once Saber was pitted against the other servants, thinking Caster was dead. Once things were set up this way, the Holy Grail War could turn a lot more fun.

"So Lacie," He said, in that stereotypically dramatic manner befitting a character in a play who talked out loud for the audiences convenience, "…think you'll like my joke?"

VV-Caster-VV

Bathory had already eliminated two points of the magical circle. To her, it was folly to make such a thing that eliminating one or two points could completely unravel the whole thing. An outside observer might say that it's the way of a noblewoman to think of herself as above others, so of course she looks down upon the magic of this time, but for now, she was alone, to unravel this thing as slowly as possible.

Inherently, it was a magical circle designed to gather magical energy, so it had magical energy to spare. It was that which Bathory entertained herself with, to keep from exhausting this thing before a response could come. She was already done with two points, she imagined that they would find her at this third one. Nobody wandered a park at midnight, so they would be alone. It was a small miracle that until now nobody had witnessed the small skirmishes, but now that the war had properly started, they would have to be careful and eliminate all chances of a witness.

Like clockwork at the strike of midnight, a fireball comes flying at Caster from behind. She of course expects such a reaction to a magus having had their magical circle tampered with. A boundary field might slow down the onslaught fractionally, or perhaps even majorly, but that defeated the purpose of this engagement. If she took too long getting through, this would attract the attention of too many others, and she preferred not to risk the chance of some servant having the ability to cancel her regenerative abilities.

"Lacie, I take it? Trenton has told me about you. He's such a troublesome kid, forcing a direct confrontation upon me." Her voice was without fear, sultry, and in control. It was only right for a noblewoman, went the thinking. "I hope you brought your servant."

The young magus has a look of surprise on her face "Ah, SHIT!"….It seems as as if Caster has hit the bulls eye. Lacie turns around and gets ready to run away. Bathory can sense the connection, but, for the moment at least, she didn't care. A knife turned inward with her wrist, not to cut another, but to cut herself. A small trickle of blood, prepared for that origin of Caster's magic.

Once Lacie realizes that nothing is happening, even though she hasn't taken a step, she turns back around with a bored expression on her face. "How dull." At that moment Roland had already materialized and started his charge on Caster from behind.

It was some small surprise, but her response had already been prepared, regardless of whether it was an offensive or a defensive use. Blood came up in a great sheen, shielding Caster, and additionally, hiding her further casting, a torrent of blood underneath her that carried to the side, further away from Saber. While it was not quite as efficient as harvesting from a live human, manifesting magical energy as blood was simple for Caster.

Nonetheless, the further spikes that came from Bathory's were futile, and could only fail to stop Saber's charge. Magic Resistance was the attribute that went along with the Saber class. It was only to be expected, but it still frustrated Caster that her attempt at a climactic battle was foiled. She didn't have a choice. It seemed Trenton *was* right.

"Hey, whore, did you know my Saber also has Protection of Faith? Your attacks aren't going to cut it." At the point that pale mages speech ends Roland is again within in striking distance and is about to give the killing blow.

The lance that cuts through the intervening silence is definitely a Noble Phantasm. Its effect on Caster, as it strikes her chest, is the strange sort of reaction you'd expect. It passed directly through her chest, to drain away the prana she had so gleefully gained, just as the sword Durandal cleaved her from shoulder to side. It was like a one-two punch, and Caster was gone.

"Seems I was just in time to steal a little glory." The strange dress of this man immediately marks him as Greek, and the lance, helmet, winged sandals, and shield made it even more obvious what servant he was. Everyone present knew that Perseus, as Lancer, had joined the fray.


	4. Chapter 3

_This is an original fiction, set in the Fate/Stay Night universe. Attempts have been made to explain mechanics where needed, but novices will likely be in over their head, if unfamiliar. Most parts were written by me. Saber and Lacie's parts were written by a friend in real-life, who goes by the handle RagDollPuppy. As usual with something like, this, all hail Nasu and Type-Moon, and this universe belongs to them, along with characters, names, concepts, etc., they came up with. Most characters are original. If you can look up their name and find them on Type Moon wiki, then they're not ours. Finally, please don't steal this. We'd be quite cross. If you wish to post this somewhere else, just fire me a message! I don't bite. :)_

_**Fate/False Sacrifice**_

Chapter 3

The subway was abandoned, as was just right at this time of night. It was a nice place to rest for a bit after trawling through a good portion of London for the entirety of the night. Albert preferred action, and as restless as he was, it was rather tiring to not find *anything*

"Master, I have something I wish to speak to you about." Such a tone was not one that broached ignorance, even from a master that held him with the leash known as a Command Seal. "Yes…Rider?" The referral to him by class was almost a reprimand. Albert was not one that allowed any defiance in this area, at least. A magus must always appear proper.

"How have you treated your colleagues up until now?" The question certainly took him off-guard. "My…colleagues? You mean…the other magi?" Rider nodded. Charlemagnes eyes seemed to pierce through his very existence. Such a…simple question, but how much had he taken out his frustrations on those people? How much had he gone against the ideal he held in his heart, to follow the ideal that that strongest of traditions, a magus family, demanded from him?

"I…" The question pierced exactly home. He had thought of this Holy Grail War as something to escape what he was before, but being reminded of it now… "I…was horrible to them." It was the honest truth. A lesser being, a being that wasn't this great Heroic Spirit wouldn't have gotten this sort of response from Albert.

It was Charlemagnes words that brought him back to the real-world, cursing his own incompetence at not noticing. At least, that was, until he saw who it was that had intruded upon their conversation. The lack of people in the subway suddenly made much more sense.

"Stand behind me, Master, I won't let this cur touch you." The man in Japanese dress across from them seemed like a thug to Albert. That unshaven face, and the fluid way he carried himself. He didn't even need to see the katana to know that it was a servant. He had heard about how Assassin could be summoned as a different person than The Man Under the Hill now, with this Holy Grail War where restrictions were lifted for some unknown purpose.

But, the next action took him off-guard. The mans voice was nonchalant, yet, steely. It was hard to pin down in Alberts mind, but the content was what surprised him, not the tone. "No, I have no interest in your master, Rider, just you. Will you have an honorable duel with me?" They were words unsuited to someone who seemed to be of the class Assassin. Was he actually from one of the Knight classes? Archer?

Albert opened his mouth to speak, but the rattle of Charlemagnes sheath silenced him. There was no other challenge, just a pointed sword. "I see, Rider. Then, no more words are necessary." They said this, but they didn't even move to strike. The hundred feet between them seemed to stretch out forever.

It started with a simple move from Charlemagne. He had a simple style, owing to the no-nonsense fighting of the west. It was a fight of endurance in the west. But here, he was fighting against someone who fought with skill, and grace.

It was almost an even fight, even with an Assassin who was holding back his power. What he lacked in strength, he made up for in pure advantage of agility. He could not make many strikes, but any was more than what Charlemagne could score on this servant. Rider's endurance was A class, something that would take a long time to whittle down, but without the unleashing of a Noble Phantasm, it was clear that Assassin would win.

The exchange was almost too fast for him to see any of this. He could interfere with magic, but…such a thing would be dishonorable. Charlemagne would not approve of such an action. And, after all, the fantasy of a hero, did not Charlemagne fit such a description? When Assassins sword struck that weak-point of every armor in the armpit, it was the hardest not to interfere

It came to a temporary end when Assassin flung himself backwards, using Charlemagnes own incredible force as a propellant. Only such a skilled servant could do so without sacrificing their life. "Charlemagne, you are truly formidable. So, I beg you to forgive me for this next transact…"

The sound that came next made Albert sure of his mistake. He had been too focused on the battle between these two, and had not noticed even that raging giant come this close. "MASTER!" Charlemagne cried out, realizing what was to take place. The identity of the servant was glaringly obvious, even in that split second.

Berserker. Albert had let Berserker of all servants sneak up to him. To not only find himself so off-guard by Charlemagnes question that he would be ambushed not once, but twice. It was unthinkable for a magus. It was unthinkable for a magus to even be perturbed by that question at all.

Albert had only one reprieve, that is, the Magic Crest available to him, opening up the extra Circuit on his left arm. The outflow of energy was just enough to propel him backwards as the sword smashed into the ground where he had been. His training as a magus had allowed himself at least that reprieve from death.

Perhaps in some sort of movie, he would emerge unscathed, but as it was, chips of stone cut him all across his body. He landed bad, rolling and hitting the wall of the subway with force that was too close to his breaking point. As the dust settled, he saw Charlemagne facing off against a monster, which he had only glimpsed before. Berserker's appearance was not one Charlemagne was familiar with, but it was something that he knew to be powerful.

Where Assassin had been winning through agility, Berserker was one who excelled in every area. An indomitable maelstrom of death, now focused on Rider. Events had progressed in a way for him to finally, interminably, inevitably, lose and die.

He couldn't accept this turn of events. He couldn't accept losing. Berserker was something that his idea of a true magus could defeat. But…that inevitable death was fast approaching, in contradiction to his fantasy of power. His thoughts were stuck on that one thing. He would die.

And there was one path out. A path that same true magus wouldn't dare to take. If he could merely escape, he could live to fight again another day. He had the Magic Crest that would allow him to find a perfect vector for escape, and all he had to rely on, was the rapidly dwindling time Rider had.

Charlemagne possessed the twin to Durandal, the peerless sword, and like Durandal, its sharpness would never fade. This translated to a tool that allowed Rider to survive for the few seconds Albert had spent standing up, both his body and mind struggling to keep up.

Now was the moment of truth, would he run, and betray that idea of a true magus, or stay and die? It was not even really a choice, despite how his heart seemed to cry out at this. He had to run. The prana bursts from his legs carried him out of the subway, first to the stairwell, then out of it, landing hard again, and rolling. His legs screamed out for release, but he kept on going.

But…more disturbing, was the sense he got from Rider. He was on the verge of defeat down there. Was he not able to make an escape? In that case, there was only one way to secure a future for Albert's Holy Grail War.

"Rider…Charlemagne. By the power invested in me, with this Command Spell, I order you, retreat to my sanctum…immediately!" The command spells were the last resort, and that was exactly what he was at. To lose Rider was not something he could afford, no matter whether he got away alive or not.

His footsteps continued to echo out through the moonlit night air. London wasn't exactly the best place for clean breathing, but the coolness of it seemed to seep into him. His burning legs, which screamed out for release, were bleeding, he realized. Had he run far enough?

He came to a stop, staring backwards down the road. There was nobody there. Now, to just make his way back home…

The unexpected resistance hit him suddenly. The weight of a katana against his neck immediately told him that if he moved an inch further, he would die. "Looks like your servant is gone. Berserker was reigned back as well, so it is only the two of us…Albert, it was? That blonde hair can't be mistaken, among the masters."

Albert was frozen, completely and totally. He had forgotten entirely about Assassin. In the previous Holy Grail Wars, Assassin had been the class adept at taking out masters, and that had changed little now, though this Assassin was much more versatile. "Well, you've caught me. Kill me."

"No." The assassin shook his head, though Albert couldn't see it. "In fact, my master's called me back. She's quite a troublesome young woman. What I'm doing now is telling you, don't get too cocky." The pressure behind him disappeared. Only one real thought could pass through his mind. What the hell had just happened?


	5. Chapter 4

_This is an original fiction, set in the Fate/Stay Night universe. Attempts have been made to explain mechanics where needed, but novices will likely be in over their head, if unfamiliar. Most parts were written by me. Saber and Lacie's parts were written by a friend in real-life, who goes by the handle RagDollPuppy. As usual with something like, this, all hail Nasu and Type-Moon, and this universe belongs to them, along with characters, names, concepts, etc., they came up with. Most characters are original. If you can look up their name and find them on Type Moon wiki, then they're not ours. Finally, please don't steal this. We'd be quite cross. If you wish to post this somewhere else, just fire me a message! I don't bite. :)_

_**Fate/False Sacrifice**_

**__**Chapter 4:

IIILacieIII

Perseus stood tall again, posing wondrously as Caster faded away in small red flecks of blood. He looked good, but Marius, watching with the little reservoir of prana he had left after managing Lancer, only noted how open Lancer had left himself. The damn fool was more interested in showing off, than getting a good position, and with Marius'…lack of prana…

"...You're Perseus." Lacie says, as one of her eye twitches. Perseus…seems to have an annoyed expression on his face. "Damn, I should have guessed. Of *course* I'll get recognized right away, with five noble phantasms!" Perhaps Marius' thinking went that this wasn't a comedy, and Perseus should just get to it. "So, where is your Master Perseus? Is he so much more pathetic than you that he won't show his face?" Roland remarks as he leisurely walks towards Perseus.

"Yeah, I kinda got stuck with a sucky master, you know? But, I am Perseus, so I've gotta win this thing for myself." He mostly is still, but the wings on his sandals propel him upwards slightly. He was ready to move. Perhaps if he had a better master, his speed would be almost unparalleled, but as was, he was relying on this advantage. Every Noble Phantasm of his required prana, after all. In response Saber gripped his Durandal more tightly, without readying it, as if to say Perseus isn't worth his best.

Perseus' first strike with Harpe is something Roland parries easily. The second, and third, are the same. While it might seem Perseus was keeping up his momentum, without a proper supply of prana, his full power isn't possible, and Saber is a juggernaut who requires full concentration. In the fourth strike, Harpe is pinned to the ground. Saber has the chance he needs. Roland pins the scythe down with one foot and slashes at the defenseless Perseus. A burst from Perseus' wings, and…

Blood flies through the air. Healing would be easy for a proper magus, one who has not decayed through these strange events, but the wound that was halfway through Perseus was something he only survived because he was a servant. Propelled by his sandals, he was kept up by them, barely keeping his stature.

"D-damn." Perseus was unused to defeat, and the order that came next…he didn't want to be a coward like he almost was against the Gorgon. "I can…keep going." The influence of a command spell called him back. He was entirely too gutsy for someone whose blood covered the ground in ample amounts. But, resisting a command spell is something he can't do in this state. Roland shouts out one last retort as Perseus retreats. "Tell your pitiful excuse for a master that she should show up next time and I'll show her what a real man fights like."

Perseus had a retort ready, but his sandals already were carrying him away. Damn, his master really was like a woman, submissively laying in his damn sanctum. He'd have to see about fixing this damned situation. He was better than this.

Meanwhile, Lacie is standing restless "GODDAMMIT! I didn't get to do anything." Only the night air answers her. That is, not at all. Some eyes might be considered to be watching her, but as their presence was not known, they did not count. A slithering sound came, as the shadow departed.

-Albert Leed-

"Albert, you have wasted a command spell, and come back here with only defeat." It was truly a ludicrous thing, that his family had stayed here. But, they were abundant in their arrogance. A merger between two magus families who, despite rising in ranks slowly, and having the excellent magical circuits through breeding, did not have anything wondrous to say for their research, which had failed to procure anything that could be called a spectacular magic crest.

This of course, resulted in the rather strange situation that he saw here. Even though the Holy Grail War had started, they still resided here, with servants in tow, brainwashed by magic to serve their masters whims while ignoring anything out of the ordinary. His mother, Lynn Leed, who was the one who had spoken, was not the one who received the Magic Crest, that was his father, Robert. Albert got his simple name from that side of the family.

"Yes, mother, but…the power of Berserker, if I hadn't retreated…!" A wave from Father, he seated himself again, realizing he had stood. Father was the one who had passed on the magic crest, and the one who was the head of this household. "Assassin, Berserker, Saber, these three have revealed themselves to you. You have their statistics, correct?" Albert nodded, they seemed to think they were strategists.

"Write them down, and we'll present a strategy to you. You obviously can't think of one under pressure. This is over." Albert just sneered. But, before his thoughts could continue, his father spoke again. "As well, there has been a murder. Have any of the magi in this war seemed to be the type who would…prey on the novice magi?" To declare an end to it, then inquire about this, it must be important.

Lacie and Saber: Too proud to stoop to such a thing.

Assassin's master: An unknown quality. Perhaps Trenton? It was a possibility.

Berserker: Another unknown.

"There are a few who could do such a thing. I'm not sure which." But he would try to find out. "Do so, Albert. If you can find the perpetrator, who is violating the rules that have been established, we might be able to negotiate a reward. For now, just reflect on your mistakes in your room." To be commanded like that…such a thing shouldn't be happening, he had Rider, he…

Had a servant who could destroy this entire household if he wished. He didn't have to deal with this. "This is my war." His parents gawked, surprised he still showed resistance. "I'll fight it my way. Rider, and me, we'll do this our own way." They looked back, incredulous, standing up from the dinner table.

"Albert, are you saying you *reject* our help?" These peoples faces, the people he should consider to be his parents, didn't seem anything of the sort to him. Rather, they seemed to be strangers. This made sense when he thought about it. After all, they were magi above parents.

"Yes." That one word was all that was needed to confirm it. "I wonder if it ever was help." This luxurious western house, it seemed like it was something foreign to him, despite living here for all these years. It was like his own rejection reversed time, making this place seem foreign before his feelings had caught up, to say that he had become different from before.

In contrast to that, his parents seemed in shock. He did his best not to let them have any time to rebuke. He passed them quickly, moving as fast as he could. Unfortunately, this was a large mansion, and he had too much space to cover to be able to escape without them rebuking him.

But he didn't listen to them. Instead, he was formulating plans in his own mind. His sanctum was still open to him, as it was in a separate building. It had its own boundary field, set up by him, and there would be no need to bother with his parents if he did not need to. Simply forcing them out of this game was entirely possible.

That wasn't the important bit, however. What was important…was overcoming Berserker. That servant was one that he would need to defeat. Rider's noble phantasm was that sort of showy, one-use Anti-Army type that would need to be used late-game, so he had to find some other way to finish this fight. He could leave it to the other servants, but there was entirely the possibility of getting attacked now that several masters knew his identity.

One of those, had a servant who would be entirely keen to an alliance. He sighed, shutting the large doors of the mansion in his parents' face. He owed this particular master an apology. They had butted heads a lot of times.


	6. Chapter 5

_This is an original fiction, set in the Fate/Stay Night universe. Attempts have been made to explain mechanics where needed, but novices will likely be in over their head, if unfamiliar. Most parts were written by me. Saber and Lacie's parts were written by a friend in real-life, who goes by the handle RagDollPuppy. As usual with something like, this, all hail Nasu and Type-Moon, and this universe belongs to them, along with characters, names, concepts, etc., they came up with. Most characters are original. If you can look up their name and find them on Type Moon wiki, then they're not ours. Finally, please don't steal this. We'd be quite cross. If you wish to post this somewhere else, just fire me a message! I don't bite. :)_

_**Fate/False Sacrifice**  
><em>

Chapter 5:

Assassin

In an apartment suite, there was a woman only referred to as 'Mistress' To the outside, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, except perhaps to the right sort of discerning magus. The spell of hypnotism was top-class, and one would have to actually look to know that there was a 'Lair' worthy of a Dead Apostle, were this 'Mistress' interested in her subjects blood.

Her purpose, was the Holy Grail War. Assassin thought he had known the purpose, to kill the other servants and gain dominion over the Holy Grail, but her actions were incomprehensible to him as it was right now. Fortunately, he wasn't one given to angsting, and preferred simple solutions. In short, he'd just ask her, this mysterious woman who seemed shy beyond belief, and yet had these luxurious surrounding built by her own design. She clearly had a complex, was what he thought.

"Master, why did you spare Albert?" She was sprawled on the couch, just looking at the ceiling. There were fourteen servants she had underneath her command, but she made all of them stay outside her room so she could think in peace. What a troublesome woman, he didn't like that she made no sense to him.

"Well, I don't want anyone to die." Assassin blinked. "I can't control it that the servants have to die, but if at all possible, I want the masters to live. My closest friends are among them, and the other ones potential friends. I couldn't hurt them." This view was so…foreign to him. He had been a samurai in an age of killing others just to show off ones technique, so for her to completely be the opposite was rather strange to him.

However, they were well suited to each other on second thought. He had rejected that way in the end, preferring the execution of the technique, to the senseless killings that had pervaded his early life. So, he could sympathize somewhat with someone who didn't want to kill, if simply by that it was an opposite from something he saw as demeaning.

The other end of that, was the inevitable conclusion that this would mean he would have to fight those other classes of servants, and would not go a roundabout way to kill the master, which was what would be expected of the servant class Assassin. Going up against these heroic spirits was exhilarating, and he wished for many fights against them. Of course then, he would accept any sort of path where he would face more of them. To prove he was invincible under the sun, he had to fight every one of them and prove himself superior.

Lily's thoughts looked to the future as well. The servants that Assassin had faced so far were, Saber, Rider, and Berserker for a brief enough moment after Rider. It was not enough intelligence, but she placed her odds at good so long as Noble Phantasms didn't get mixed in. That was not enough however. Of course a Noble Phantasm would be used. But, if Assassin could play on the honor of these combatants and strike where they were weak…it might be possible.

Really, to have to use honor as a sneaky way to win a battle, it was too much, she mused. But, at the very least, she could give those servants a good way to go, defeat in battle, like they wished. They didn't belong in this world, those heroes of old. Todays world wasn't one of duels to the death in honorable battle, it was one of complex ideologies. They didn't fit, these simple-minded knights of yesterday. Musashi was not one. His life was as an artist, not as a warrior, he had been a master of so many things other than killing. Such a person was more suited to the modern world than a brute who thought they could prove they're right through mortal combat.

Albert

Truthfully, now he wondered if it was a good idea. On his way up the stairs he had a million thoughts about the ways Lacie could beat him in this situation. A master of runes certainly would be able to create a sanctuary resistant to penetration. She was also, he had to admit, a better magus in combat than him. And she had Saber, the class almost guaranteed to be strongest.

That last fact gave him hope however. Rider was Charlemagne and Saber was Roland. They were relatives pitted against each other by insane coincidence. They had stated how they didn't wish to fight, so at the very least they didn't wish to fight.

He gave a small smile, not of victory or anything positive like that. It was more like the smile of someone damned to execution. Lacie had ample reason to kill him. He had been one of those who doubted her, and publicly decried her magic, like a true magus would. It all depended on his apology. That was bad. He wasn't very good at apologies.

He came all the way up to the floor that the attendant had told him about. The number….221. Slowly, he approached the doorway, and was about to lightly rap his knuckle on the hard wood, but, right before he knocked he heard an aggravated voice from inside "Come in."

He pressed his hand to the handle, and turned, no resistance. Possible traps from any angle as soon as he came in, so he pushed open the door without actually entering. A prepared prana packet could push him any way if there was a trap that he could dodge on reflex. Worse probably, would be Lacie standing right there, ready to punch his face in, though.

His nightmare of Lacie being there ready to bash his face in was not far from the truth. Looking through, he saw her standing in a mess of papers and books, twirling one of her brace knuckles on one of her index fingers. "You have more guts than I thought, Albert. Why are you here?" She said with a chilling stare.

Shit. That image of her standing there was a bit more intimidating than he thought. He couldn't give an apology to that, so maybe she'd…"I'm here for an alliance. I have Berserker's stats. Neither of us can beat him alone, so I thought we should team up together. Our servants are already averse to fighting anyways, so this'll keep us from wasting command seals." An intellectual approach. It didn't express what he felt in his heart, but mayhaps that was better when he couldn't bring himself to say it.

Lacie raised her eyebrow "Interesting, in the case that we do form an alliance, what are we going to do about the problem of our Servants? Before we join we should determine how we'll end this." Albert raised his eyebrow as well. "They are Charlemagne and Roland, they…" The servant materialized next to him casually, so quietly he only noticed it through that bond master and servant share. Rider was bold.

"*I* don't wish to fight my nephew. I'm sure he feels the same, if he would materialize and state it." Albert couldn't see Rider's gaze, but he was sure that it rested on Lacie with a grim, steely demeanor fitting the servant. Albert wondered at his statement though. Roland had been eager to fight before, and he seemed the type to glory in this combat. Charlemagne had given himself to an ideal, while Roland was a brash knight, even though they were related.

As if in response Roland materializes but Lacie starts before he can speak "That is exactly the problem I'm getting at. If me and Albert join forces and are the last two standing then how is this going to be settled. True, I could simply fight and kill Albert myself at the end with little worry of interference but that is not ideal." Now Lacie stared Rider in the eye as if to say she's not afraid of him.

Rider nodded simply. "There is a simple answer to that. I'm not sure if you have thought of it yet, Roland, you were always brash, but once we have our mutual survival guaranteed, a fight would be fine. There's a logical side to this. You know my wish, Roland, and if I were to lose, you could carry this wish as well as I could." Roland had given his life in pursuit of that dream after all. Charlemagne had worked his entire life for it. A unified Europe, though that was just one step. A unified world, where all of God's children didn't have to live in that agony of existence.

Lacie turned to her Servant, awaiting for a response. "I...I understand. If that's what it takes, I will fight my uncle in the end, only at the end. I look forward to our duel, uncle, I'll give it everything I've got." His pale Master smiled at that response. "Of course, Charlemagne is the more intelligent of the two."

This struck Roland and Albert as ambiguous, neither of them were sure which of them she had been insulted. She walked over to a pile of books and pulls out one labeled: Imyndunarafl, which seems to be gibberish. "If we're to fight together we need to understand each other. This book is a compilation of Norse sagas and legends that I have put together." She hands the book to Albert and offers to shake his hand.

Albert, hesitantly extended his hand. He hadn't really believed that he would get through this conversation with such a half-assed attempt, but Rider had carried the rest of the way for him. With that, he guessed the apology wasn't really necessary…

Buts, as Albert shaked her hand, she rapidly punched him the nose with her left, catching him off guard. Luckily however the she didn't have strengthening magic nor her brass knuckles on. "That's for revealing my Servant so early in the game." This kind of response is to be expected. Still, it hurt like hell.

Albert rubbed his jaw, after stumbling backwards, releasing her hand. He trained his body like all magi, but still, he had never actually taken a punch before. "H-hey, mine was revealed too!" And his notes on various cultures were destroyed by her dramatic entrance. Forget that apology, she was a damned annoying woman.

?

Thump.

It had a heartbeat that wasn't there, a perfect imitation of life, down to the smallest detail, but it still seemed empty to the entity that had no name. All that gave it form and substance was one thing. Magic. And the form of others.

A true heartbeat emanated around 30 meters forward. There were spells surrounding the location, but those were easily circumvented. It had the knowledge of a magus, and everything that entailed, so it could simply use that magus to understand these barriers and destroy them.

It was somewhat like those foods with a hard outer shell, like a coconut. One had to crack the outer layer before they could go inside. But, this creature had such a hunger, and such a shapeless nature, that it could simply break through all the layers at once.

Perhaps, to the magus inside, it seemed like all the walls collapsed, and shadow seeped in through every crack, but that conceptualization of his existence didn't last for long. Soon, he was part of that shadow, and his essence was absorbed into the whole.

One step closer to the vague goal in its mind, the creature gathered the prana of this meager soul, along with its knowledge. Soon, it would be able to predict the path that would lead to that promised time.


	7. Chapter 6

Trenton

The evening dinner was perfect. Noone talked, but that was how dinner had always been since Trenton's mother had died. Honestly, he missed those times, and, for the past few days, he had completely avoided this ritual altogether. Them both being magi, and Trenton supposedly having lost his servant, this seemed almost like he was seeking refuge.

But he wasn't. Rather, he was seeking simply another advantage in his little game. Bathory, Caster, was very much alive, and harvesting new essence from the civilians of London. An accidental death was actually quite easy for her to achieve. A heart attack was easy for that sorceress of blood to achieve. In that manner, Caster had disappeared, and Trenton isolated himself from giving her that source of prana, at least for now. And, with simply hiding the symbols on his hand, the deception was complete.

"I need a new servant…Father." Trenton wondered if his father was smart, or extraordinarily stupid. He had seen a glimpse of the command seals on Gerold's hand. For someone who was supposed to be a supervisor, Gerold certainly seemed to be up to no good. Sure, it was a move that went around the Church, to have a magus as the supervisor, and to keep it all secret from the Church's accomplices, but to outright summon a servant as the supervisor was another level of betrayal for the position. His face seemed to betray surprise. Trenton had been right.

"What makes you think I have that sort of thing? I am the supervisor of this Holy Grail War, not a repository of extra serv…" Trenton waved his hand. "Not as a supervisor, but as my father, or as yourself? Why else would you have the command seals on your hand right now?" Gerold had his own wish, it seemed, though Trenton couldn't comprehend what it might be. Perhaps he wanted his master back from the dead. That seemed about right. He smiled. Check.

Gerold looked at his son in surprise. When Trenton had come back to the estate, he had wondered what to expect. He never predicted this. "Yes. I have a servant. And, I have been keeping him in reserve. He is Archer, and I imagine he could do well, though he isn't as strong as Caster. Then…how did she die?"

"I was double-teamed, you see. First she was fighting Saber, then Lancer, who I have identified as Perseus, stabbed my Bathory with that prana-draining spear of his, and she faded away. That's about all there is to it." Gerold frowned at him.

Of course, it hadn't happened that way. Bathory had left a chance for her body to regenerate. The loss of prana was a major concern, but there had been ways to fix that. "And why does that mean I should give you command of my servant, Trenton?" And here was the gamble, but, there really wasn't one. Trenton knew his father too well.

He grinned this time, his manipulation perfected. "Why, you are a supervisor, are you not? So, for you to have a servant is something that must remain in the background. They don't know that I was Caster's master, and I am your son, so I'll fulfill your wish, whatever it is that you desire. That way, your manipulation remains in the shadows, and you maintain your chance of winning this Holy Grail War without chancing the loss of your own life. How does that sound?" After all, he didn't really care for the result, the wish, but the battle that resulted. He already had an older wish to adhere to.

But, Gerold's expression was incomprehensible to him. He was…smiling? "Trenton…" And Trenton was drawn into an embrace he hadn't felt for almost a decade. "F-father?" Gerold was no doubt still warmly smiling at his son, showing emotion that had almost seemed long-forgotten.

"I haven't told you the truth about this war, Trenton. It's not as noble as it might seem, it's more…a sacrifice for the greater good. And at the expense of you young magi." Trenton was baffled. He had thought that it was a much simpler gambit, but what was this he was talking about? "What do you mean?"

"Trenton. Carry on my wish, reach the Root, and win, so we can reclaim the magic that has been taken from us. Many have lost their lives to reach this point. But, I believe you can carry this, where I might fail. I'm old, son. I can't carry this any longer." Trenton realized his father was crying. "Y-yes. I will." He felt his heart warming for a second, until Gerold's next words were spoken. "This War has been fixed from the very start. The wish will always be what we have determined it, so just win, bring all the servants prana to the Grail, and then the world will be whole again. That is all." When it was a choice, a wish to be fulfilled, Trenton felt wonderful, but now that it didn't matter, he found it…distasteful. He hid that look from his face, and wondered at what he would do next.

?

Knowledge. Holy Grail War. Participant: Lacie. Location: Confirmed.

It was still hungry. Fifty-two meals of meat and bone and prana, but it craved something more wholesome. The soul of the average person was worth only himself. A magus was worth ten to a hundred times that. An excellent magus of the clocktower was worth even more. A servant was worth thousands, maybe even tens of thousands.

It classified this location as the least defended, though the pulsating hunger seemed to render all tactics unattainable by any of the minds it had consumed. Nonetheless, it slipped through the cracks in the front entrance. Someone screamed out briefly, then was silenced. Vaguely, the thing comprehended it had eaten something simply by passing by. It did not matter, the soul was weak, and did not even dent the all-encompassing hunger. It had greater prey on its mind.

Albert/Lacie:

Considering that both of them knew everything about the others servant, it was quite easy for Albert and Lacie to maintain a professional magus-to-magus alliance without having to worry about the information one ended up giving out. Other servants were the only unknown factor for either of them, and that was something that could be doled out on an equal basis.

They were seated across from each other in the local restaurant. Albert couldn't recall the name of it, and he didn't particularly care. Maybe Lacie might remember it for its good food, her being a foreigner without a family, and her own cooks. Albert didn't really need to worry about that.

"So, have you encountered Assassin as well?" Albert reached out and took a piece of the French cuisine, some meat dish that he didn't know the name of. It tasted good. Maybe it would be worth finding out the name of this restaurant. It would certainly help to eat away from his family now that he was a little…estranged.

There was a delay in Lacie's response. She finished taking a sip from her expresso and began in a dull tired voice: "Yeah, he seemed to be Japanese samurai like in the last Fuyuki Grail War. The only way I can tell he's a different one though is because of his facial hair...He's different from other Assassin's he attacks Servants directly gauging their power levels, doesn't go for the Master apparently. The strangest thing about him though is the way he fights. He attacks in a fluid but almost unpredictable fashion allowing him to keep up with even Saber." 

She paused to yawn and take another gulp of her drink. It was morning and she wasn't in a very active mood, which was the reason she had an expresso to get her going. "What about you? What information do you have on the Servants you met?" Lacie had forgotten for a moment in her current state about something. "Oh, yeah, by the way I fought Caster followed by Lancer the other night. Caster went down quick she used blood magic. She mentioned 'Trenton' had warned her about Roland. We should keep an eye out for him. Caster may be gone but he's still a Master. As for Lancer, he was pitiful, to say the least. I realized immediately upon his appearance that he was Perseus. My Saber cut through him with ease but he eventually got away." With that Lacie was done with her report and awaited Alberts reply.

Albert had to restrain himself from swearing and giving it away. She had been busy. He had faced only two servants in total. That wasn't as many as she had faced. Albert shook his head slowly. "Just Berserker. I didn't get anything on his name or Noble Phantasms, but I have his stats. They're...impressive. And the reason I sought an alliance with you." 

"There's still something else though. When I was escaping from Berserker, before I could order him to retreat, Assassin caught me on his own. He didn't kill me, and it's completely baffling why." Albert left it unsaid that perhaps Albert deserved it for running away, but clearly Assassin's master was more merciful than smart. For the master of Assassin to be like that...whoever it was, they were lucky this was not a normal Assassin. "Can you think of a reason for that?"

Lacie watched as Albert fidgeted and gave his reply. She only assumed, for now, that his frustration was that he felt 'inadequate' in some way. Perhaps this was his first time eating out with a girl? Or maybe he was just an idiot? For now Lacie decided to spare him and only went on with business.

"Assassin...was odd. To say the least. As I said before he only attacks Servants not Masters, or at least thats what he says. Which is strange for the Assassin class. He fancies himself an 'honorable' man. So he probably didn't kill simply because it be no different from a man smashing an ant underneath his boot. In other words he didn't kill you because there was no honor or glory in it." 

Lacie stopped to think for a moment. "How well did Charlemagne hold up to Berserker, also did you see if Berserker had any Magical Resistance?" Albert grimaced, as he remembered back and realized he hadn't actually tested magic out against Berserker. "Unsure. But, he was quickly overwhelming Rider. If we combine forces though, then we can double-team him. The big problem is we don't know his Noble Phantasms." Albert continued eating his meal, remarking how good it was in his mind. It was irrelevant, but delicious.

Lacie had nearly spat out her coffee in Alberts face. "How could you not know that? Every Master learns the basic attributes of a Servant the second they see them. The only thing you shouldn't know are his Noble Phantasms and identity." Lacie shrugged "You're lucky I agreed to be your ally."

"Ah, yes, but, um, yeah." Still, there could be a Noble Phantasm that does something, but really, he didn't know. That was unlikely anyways, he was Berserker. In fact, he had completely made a fool of himself. How disconcerting. He brushed his hair back and looked away slightly, realizing he was probably betraying his embarrassment. "Yeah, my mind's a bit muddled when it comes to that."

"Anywa-" He froze, as a sense came to him. He was lucky he hadn't had food in his mouth, he probably would have choked. His complexion likely was pale. It was only natural, he had just sensed a prana output over thirty times his. In fact, he could sense it just outside the restaurant, as if it could hide its prana output until its prey was close.

"…you feel it, right?" Rider was ready to materialize. "…that has to be a servant." As Albert appeared to whisper to himself, Lacie was busy preparing herself. She put on her glasses and got a few rune rings off her belt. Only stopping to say "What a surprise!" almost as if in reference to the new presence but she continued "You do have some semblance of a brain." Getting up from her chair to look at the new arrival she whispered. "Get ready, Saber."

There was no response. It didn't have a shape, just a borrowed one, and it didn't use the function of a 'brain' to process a response. It just had hunger. The far side of the restaurant, two moderate sources of prana, unmaterialized, two huge sources of prana. Three minor sources closer at hand.

If it listened to something called 'tactics', it would have gone straight for the larger sources across the room, but instead, it revealed its hand. The blonde man standing in the doorway walked three steps, before a black substance spilled out from his boots, flowing quicker than any normal liquid to entrap and ensnare the three innocent patrons.

A moment before this, Albert noticed the lack of sound outside the restaurant. He hadn't looked, but now, when he did, he saw another, thrashing black...thing outside. It had eaten before, and that was why it had released prana. Vaguely, he heard a crunching sound, as both Rider and Saber materialized. He didn't notice that though. Instead, he thought over the report he had heard of the previous Holy Grail War.

An unexplained shadow, that ate and ate without regard, servants, innocents, and magi. Considering the mysterious circumstances under which the last war ended, anything could be possible. Even that shadow living through these interim years. Even that shadow coming to witness the next Holy Grail War.

"It's not a servant." He said it out loud, even though it was just an intuition. The rune-clad magus replied, "Original. But it does come from the Holy Grail" Lacie continued to pull rune-cards from inside her coat, they all had one symbol on them. "Algiz!" the cards lit up with power and she threw them onto the power-less people around her including Albert.

"That is the rune of protection, it should help everybody a bit." She turned to Saber and gave him the command. "Don't let that thing escape." In response, the 'thing' occupying a host that was a tall, blonde man with dark, studded clothing, raised one arm, and pointed.

Semblances of a magical circuit fuelled this, but it didn't need the magic crest of the original magus. Just the knowledge he had for using his magical circuits in a certain way. If it was prana, it had more than enough. Ions in the air realigned, and prana was channeled through. This method was a simple way for achieving a powerful strike of lightning. Cost-efficient, and powerful.

Rider blocked it easily. He had the Magical Resistance attribute, due to his Protection of Faith, so magic wouldn't do much to affect him, at least not something as simple as one strike that he was ready to defend against. However, in that flash, many black tracks went along the ground, like crisscrossing lines in an art drawing, except they bulged out, and had life. Several each now pointed to each of the civilians, racing along the floor like spikes ready to impale them.

The imposing paladin yelled "Lacie!" Signaling her to defend some of the citizens he couldn't. He charged up in an arc to the strange creature slashing at the weird black extensions, while his Master bolted out in a semi-opposite direction attempting to stop the tendrils in their tracks with the rune of Hagalaz, the rune of controlled crisis. Meanwhile Roland was now near the source of them, ready to cleave through them with his peerless blade.

Durandal cleaved the black veins with ease, even as some parts of them seemed to stick to the blade like some sort of glue. However, perhaps due to the Magic Resistance of the Saber class, they didn't stick for long, falling to the ground like discarded trash, before they thrashed and retreated to strike again, to be fended off again.

The couple that Lacie had moved to protect though, weren't so lucky. Against a normal opponent, this rune would have an effect, but to this dark shadow, it was just another source of prana. Something like a nut, covered in a hard shell, which could nonetheless be cracked by the usage of the power it had received. A black shell surrounded the rune as the black lines reached it, and the shell compressed to a single point. A faint crunch could be heard, then it continued on, leaving a half-sphere eaten out of the ground.

The process took about half a second, before reaching out for the couple. Now that Lacie and Albert were closer, they could see the spikes approaching from the tendril as it surrounded them in a sphere, and even their bodies being obliterated in the split-second they could still be seen. The thrashing had stopped for the people further towards the entrance of the restaurant, and the tendrils returned to the 'thing' still standing in the doorway.

Albert smirked as he finished gathering his prana. Using his magical crest as a regulator, basically an extra container past his own body, he could release a large amount of prana at once, maybe twice what he could regulate normally. Flame seemed like something that would work well against this creature, perhaps stopping the…regeneration he guessed it was. He wouldn't admit it out loud of course, but he had been a fan of horror films during his rebellious stage. Trenton had given them to him, and even noted how flame always seemed to work against the monsters who feasted on human flesh.

But…that wasn't what ended up happening. The flame worked well enough scouring away the tendrils around this thing, but when it reached the main body, something strange happened. The body burned…too quickly. Like dust it blew away through the force of the expanding air, obscuring what happened after that. A moment afterwards, the obscured black point expanded through the air to absorb all the prana that was used to create the flame, then retreated back into a sphere form for a few seconds.

Rider stepped forward through the flames, approaching the sphere as it assumed a different form. This one was a woman in a purple dress. Apparently, it created the clothes as well, so it didn't need time to prepare a new form. Rider didn't care about that. With one attack he chopped her in half, just as Saber sliced her head off in another motion, as the things defenses were gone. It was overly fatal in just about every form, but the form just collapsed to the ground, unnaturally weaving backwards, in defiance of anything a normal skeleton could do.

Rider stepped forward once, and then it flinched back, like a predator on guard. Sighing, he had an idea. In one smooth motion, he stabbed it through the heart. It collapsed, giving off the impression it had worked. The magi felt the prana retreating, but there was a flaw in their sense of victory. Retreating, or fading away, the effect seemed the same to them. The body crumbled away, revealing a hole in the ground. It appeared to have slithered through after burrowing out. Judging by the speed with which the presence faded, it was going quite fast.

Pursuing it would require a long, drawn out chase through unknown terrain, likely destroying good amounts of public property. Even then, they weren't guaranteed that anything they'd do would kill it. It had just taken several wounds from servants and magi without dying.

As a few normal people were still around, some in awe, some still panicking, Lacie reacted and casted a spell on them using the concept of reversing the rune of Algiz to erase their memory of the incident. She couldn't really be certain how much of their memory was erased due the rush job but it would have to do.

After which, she returned to her table and picked up her coffee, taking a sip. "So why didn't you protect those people?" referring to both Charlemagne and Albert. Rider turned to regard them, reasoning in his mind that if the thing survived all that, they would need more research. He put his hand on Saber's shoulder as well, to restrain his foolhardy nephew from charging off on his own.

"Eliminating the murderer comes first. A few peoples sacrifice to keep many from dying is the optimal course, and besides, you *were* protecting them, weren't you?" His steely gaze regarded her in a manner something like a superior judging his loyal retainer for a failure of skill. The gesture seemed to fit for Albert. The servant hadn't ever spoken much, but determination was obviously there in droves.

Albert shook his head at this. There was something more important. "The alive matter more right now. I assume you wiped their memory or something?" Lacie was too busy giving a defiant glare to Rider for looking at her as an inferior to give him an immediate response. Out of frustration she threw her expresso at Alberts groin. "Of course, dumbass."

She went on to state "You should report this to the Magus Association. You're on better terms with them than I am…Should we reconvene somewhere else?" Albert stepped back, as the expresso splashed on the ground, getting the hot liquid all over his well-made slacks and dress shoes. "Eugh…I…no. I'm not on good terms with them." He scratched his neck nervously. "I might not be on very good terms with my family anymore after this." He went over what he had in his mind. "Well, I suppose I still have access to my credit card to replace these clothes. I never did use that money much. Thanks." He started walking off, muttering. "Should've just let their memories be. It would have made a problem for someone." It was a simple matter of probability. It would probably be someone he didn't like.

"Yeah. Tonight, same place." He responded to Lacies up-until-now unanswered query. It was absent-minded. What he was really thinking about was the Shadow. It disturbed him to no end, and, the only explanation was that he didn't know. He didn't know why it was here, he didn't know how it was here, he didn't even know what it was. It was murdering innocents to get at them, seemed to blow through magic with ease, and might even pose a threat greater than any servant. His life, impossible as it seemed, had become more complicated.


End file.
